


Our Adoration is Endless

by schulott



Series: And we find home in each other's arms [4]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Basically the circus around Monaco? I guess, Future Fic, M/M, Monaco GP 2021, no beta i just exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28940055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schulott/pseuds/schulott
Summary: Monaco is always an oddity when it comes to F1. There seems to be unending commitments to be fulfilled and racing feels like just part and parcel of the weekend rather than being the centerpiece. It could be good or bad, depending on who you ask, and when you ask them. There are also moments of self doubt in the run-up to it, and moments of great triumph that come in spite of it.(Or: the lead up to Monaco, navigating the circus, and Callum's thing with Mick in a suit.)(Near-)future fic surrounding the 2021 Monaco GP.
Relationships: Callum Ilott/Mick Schumacher
Series: And we find home in each other's arms [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089959
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	Our Adoration is Endless

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of these characters, and this is a work of fiction. This is not intended to be any reference to, or be any likeness to any people or events in real life. No economic value of any kind has been produced in writing this.
> 
> I have given up on tallying the number of hours I racked up lately, but managed to squeeze some time out for this over this weekend.  
> Tbh I wrote parts of this half asleep with my eyes closed so idk what is going on in this installment of the AU LOL
> 
> Hope you enjoy this.

**10 May 2021**

_Monday 18:08 CET_

It is still bright out, when Callum wakes up again, with the sun still hanging low in the sky - they have truly gotten to the part of the year of long daytimes with even longer days thanks to daylight saving time. The light filters in through the drawn sheer curtains of the bedroom, as Callum shifts a little to hug Mick closer, nosing his boyfriend’s pecs. They are still stark naked from their christening of the bed, probably in need of a shower, but there is no intent to move considering the warmth emanating from each other and the heaters in the house being on, even if turned significantly down low, just to counteract the sudden bouts of cold breezes a little better. The fact that Callum is still a little boneless and relishing the feeling of skin on skin, even if he is not incredibly keyed-up, and the fact that Mick had thrown an arm over him, both do not serve to help the case of getting up either.

He shifts a little on the bed, as he starts pecking Mick on places where he could reach - his collarbone, his pecs, his jawline, his cheek. Mick is still out of it though, apparently the exhaustion just a little too strong, so Callum finds himself, even if he is just unhorny, swirling a tongue around Mick’s nipples, knowing their sensitivity, just to see if it is what would finally wake him up. It works, surprisingly, as Mick blinks open his eyes, and a hand finds its way into Callum’s hair to tug him a little.

“That’s not a bad scenario to wake up into.” Mick mumbles, voice still a little dip from disuse and has a little crack from the way he may or may not have screamed a little during their last session.

“Was just trying to wake you up so we could shower.” Callum says matter-of-factly, though his breath hitches unhelpfully when Mick shoves a leg between Callum’s and moves them so friction is provided to Callum’s semi, and only the threat of Callum sucking a hickey somewhere obvious and visible serves as a mildly successful means to make Mick stop, though his face also says he is turned on by the thought even if his responsible brain would not allow himself to let that happen.

They do end up having another go while in the shower, their libido a bit stronger than usual - neither think they are a particularly sexual couple, but that indeed happened, and this time without Mick’s shenanigans of making it drawn out and all that.

* * *

Things feel scarily natural, if you ask Mick. After the flurry of activities he and Callum have been engaged in during daytime, it is only then that Mick has the time to properly take in his surroundings since arriving in Italy in the morning. He finds himself wandering from room to room, as Callum is preoccupied with working on something on the computer in the office, and he gets the opportunity to let the space register with his brain that it is somewhere he could feel at home - especially when Callum is around.

He steps out into the backyard, still with a cup of chai in hand, and plops down on a deck chair, enjoying the light breeze and the remainder of the daylight. He finds his mind quiet, as he is able to focus on the peace of the surrounding. His eyes wander around the backyard, taking in the few trees on the yard, other sitting areas, and ends up focusing on the ripple of the water in the pool. He takes a sip from his cup, before setting down and reclining a little further. He does not hear the screen door to the yard opening, and the only indication that he has company is when a quiff of brown hair enters his peripheral vision as he looks up, and then a body sitting down on the ground next to him, and slender fingers taking his cup from his hands before the tell-tale sound of a slurp from the cup.

They sit there in companionable silence, as they look into the distance, watching the twilight receding from the skyline. Mick has moved over in his chair a little, so that Callum could lean the side of his head against Mick’s thigh, as he plays with the strands of brown hair, ignoring Callum’s muttered protests that his hair is going to fall out and his hairline is moving to another postcode. The mindlessness soothes Mick, as he calms down from the hecticness of it all of the past days - the good bit of the rush of coming to a place that is just for himself and Callum, the even better bit of the unspeakable things they do on the plush bed in their room; but also the bad bit of the race weekend that has just gone. With how their lives are dominated by racing and racing alone from a very young age, and their time often preoccupied by things that are racing or racing-tangent, Mick truly cherishes times that he can take his mind off of everything - and it is an added bonus that he is with Callum, someone that could understand their lives, someone who specifically understands and loves Mick, and allows him to have the perks of both worlds, to be understood but also not constantly reminded of their lives racing against a stopwatch.

They end up sitting in front of the television, their go-to Netflix show on screen, and Callum cuddling up against him, his lean frame cushioned by Mick’s wider frame, and they breathe in the same air as they see what is happening in the series they have been trying and failing to keep up with, exchanging comments here and there as the events unfold on screen.

If you ask an outsider, not that Mick nor Callum would allow that to happen ever, but if one is asked of the scenario Mick is currently in right now, he doubts anyone could tell that this is not some natural occurrence in his life despite how normal it seems. It is almost like they have been doing it for many months or even years. It is almost like this is meant to be. Mick does not let himself dwell on the dramaticness of the thought, preferring to leave the drama to his boyfriend, nor does he dwell on whether or not they have missed out on more of this, had they have gotten their shit together earlier, in a pre-pandemic world, when they are still actively racing together. He knows to be grateful for what he has, and the bottom line is he is still thanking his lucky stars that the fateful night in Bahrain in F2 last year happened.

* * *

**13 May 2021**

_Thursday 14:12 CET_

It would, though, be an absolute lie if Mick tells you that everything is smooth sailing; sunshine and rainbows and all that. He might as well tell you that there is a cat flying in the sky while shitting a rainbow out of its arse.

It is at a time like this when he understands the wisdom of a saying that he cannot quite place where it came from - but the gist is that it is easy to be on good terms with a person, but much more difficult to be living under the same roof with them. It is not necessarily that everything is going wrong in the household, or that Mick is already done with Callum, but it sure is a learning experience in itself.

He nearly trips over a single white adidas trainers and lands on his face in the middle of a corridor, just as he comes out of the office, muscles slightly sore from his quick set of training that his trainer has set for him. Thankfully his reflexes are still working and he just catches himself against the wall.

He sighs, leaning down to pick up the offending shoe. He has just gotten a hold of it, when he hears Callum from somewhere behind him, no short of amusement whatsoever.

“That is a very nice view.”

He spins around, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend, then gestures with the shoe in his hand to make a point, ignoring his boyfriend’s comment or the bright smirk that is gracing his handsome features that he loves in most circumstances. “Why on earth is there a shoe in the middle of the corridor?”

Callum just shrugs and walks up to him, taking the shoe out of his hand, pressing a quick peck on his cheek. Mick surveys Callum’s movements as he observes his boyfriend dropping the shoe with its long lost counterpart by the TV cabinet, close to the corridor.

It is perhaps the one facet of it all that takes the most getting used to on Mick’s part. Setting aside the bit where Mick is on the fence with whether he should _get used to_ this, seeing that this is not exactly him _moving in_ with Callum (it more or less is, but try telling Mick that), but the thing is, there are a lot of things that Mick likes about it - like having someone in his arms as he goes to bed every night he is here; or the bit where that the someone is not just anyway, but Callum, the very same boy that he has denied himself from admitting liking for so long; or the bit where he could tangle in the sheets with his boyfriend as freely as they like, in the privacy of this place, without the worry of being found out by people that should have no business in this; or the bit he has someone to have fun working with and around in the kitchen, making cooking less of a chore that he has to do, but rather an activity that is more enjoyable than otherwise.

To put it simply, it is the abundance of Callum for him that, for better or worse, that he got quickly used to just because of how much he likes it. They are not even joined at the hip 24/7, but even just the idea that Callum is somewhere close to him in the house brightens his mood just a little. Callum has quipped the day before, that Mick is getting even mushier than he would like to admit, when he vaguely described the idea of this thought.

It is just that his boyfriend is somewhat a disaster when it comes to getting organised.

And it is slightly annoying Mick. Just slightly.

He only realises that he is lost in his thoughts when he feels Callum’s arms wrapping around him, pressing a feather-light kiss on the shell of his ear before whispering into it. “You’re too handsome to start getting frown lines so young.”

It is with that the realisation dawns that he is also frowning on top of losing himself in his thoughts.

“I’ll try to make sure stuff that’ll accidentally harm you is put away better, or that important stuff like your wallet are not going to mysteriously disappear in a pile of my clothes again, but I also wish you could let loose a little.”

It is one of the things that they have talked about before, Mick’s overt need to feel like he is in control of things. That extends into things like his need to keep things in order, which also gives him some semblance of control as well. The fact he is so stereotypically German when it comes to things like these also does not help, and people would be forgiven to be mistaken that Mick has some sort of obsession to keep things in some absolute order if they have a hint of all these. Of course, it is not all bad, when you consider examples like Mick bringing extra sets of dress shirts and pants to a race just so he is prepared for all eventualities. But when he is at home and the only subject matter is if things are in order, it gets a little excessive.

He knows that Callum is not even annoyed at Mick for all of these, that he happily obliges, especially when he thinks there is some sensibility to it - like not to leave a shoe in the middle of a corridor that could trip anyone, or not to drop their keys into a pile of laundry just so they could flip the place upside down in search of them.

But he knows Callum is more a little concerned than anything. It is another thing that they have talked about, this being much more recently, that Callum had vaguely mentioned that he thinks it is unhealthy to be so highly-strung all the time, and that he mentioned something along the lines that there are places where one could relax, let loose without any perceived or actual costs or risks, and implied that Callum would not judge him or think differently about him just because he gets a little lazy or less organised, or less in control (whatever that means to Mick). He also knows Callum does not think differently either way, given he is not bothered about it, and is thinking more about Mick’s wellbeing.

He has his moments of letting go, to be fair. The night after the Shanghai race comes to mind, as do little moments here and there when he just abdicates his responsibilities a little and lazes, has a little fun, or whatnot with Callum and/or his friends. He knows how it does him good, to not be constantly stressed or be preoccupied by his responsibilities and obligations, self-imposed or not. He has probably gotten a little worse at this all lately, with the increased amount of time he spends indoors, with lockdown rules sometimes even restricting how much he could go out and hike or bike in the woods, or just walk around incognito otherwise. Or it is just that being in a highly pressurised sport has just got to him a little and he is expressing it through this all, searching for semblance of control in his life.

“Mhm, thank you, I’ll try.” He whispers back, rubbing the tip of his nose against Callum’s cheek.

He would, though, try and be a little better to himself, making an effort for himself and Callum, just like Callum easily agreed to organise a little (“but not too much - how do I get my knight in shining armour otherwise?” Callum had said).

It is all about maneuvering and making little efforts here and there, for both themselves and each other. What draws them together is far stronger than the little differences they have anyway, and is it not the idea of love - that people make each other better, fuller and all that? They complement each other in a lot of ways, and small things like Callum’s disastrous ability to organise; or Mick’s tendency to check out sometimes; or Mick’s occasional duvet hogging escapades; or any little inconsequential things that exists, they do not change how they think of each other or their relationship.

Callum suggests a round of COD on the consoles. This little episode quickly fades into the background, nothing more than another inconspicuous page of their story. Callum continues with his campaign to get Mick better at the game, miserably failing at that, might Mick add, as they both know that a round of COD is never just one round; and getting Mick to play with him almost always end up becoming Mick wrapping himself around Callum while he hinders Callum’s moves, his own controller forgotten as his character got taken out way too early once again.

Any other time, if anyone asks Mick of good ways to spend his own free time away from training, the sim or just racing in general, he would give a good list of options to be considered, but none of which involves playing video games that gives you even more adrenaline rush. But circumstances are definitely different, and Mick thinks he is quite on board with the idea when there is Callum involved, and especially when he gets to do this.

* * *

**14 May 2021**

_Friday 22:47 CET_

He would not say that it is usual occurrence that he is already in bed when it is barely eleven in the evening, given Callum’s usual tendency to stay up and unintentionally disregard sleep schedules. But he has had a long day with an early start, doing some promotional shoots with the team, and went into the gym with his trainer in the afternoon to put himself through the paces. He was glad to find Mick already cooking, when he returned earlier in the evening and went out like a light as soon as his body hit the mattress.

Neither would he roll out of the comforts of his own bed, unless he has good reason to, be it back at home, or here in Italy. Callum would not go around and claim that he knows everything about how Mick works, but his gut feeling does find the situation he is in now slightly unusual. Mick has yet to occupy the space next to him in the bed - not too usual on its own when you consider that it is still not _too late_ at night; but there is also the fact that the place is absolutely quiet, when he strains to hear for any motions that would indicate that his boyfriend is still up and about; and there is also the fact that, from where he is in bed, he cannot see any light coming through the doorway to the bedroom. He grabs one of Mick’s hoodies abandoned on the bed to cover himself in the night breeze, before setting off in search of the blond boy.

Managing to not trip over anything in the dark - thankful that he has tidied up obviously out of place things and piles - he finds himself in the unlit living room, still without a trace of his boyfriend. Though his head swivels in the direction of the backyard, when he feels a sweep of wind hitting him, revealing that the sliding door to the backyard is left open. Callum hugs himself a little tighter in the hoodie, as he steps out back. The dim yard lights reveal a figure sitting down on the ground, leaning against the tree in the backyard. He sets off in that direction, walking towards Mick’s figure, coughing a little to alert him of his presence when he gets close to avoid startling the boy.

“Mind some company?” Callum inquires, as he stops next to Mick, looking down at him. Mick pats the ground next to him, but otherwise does not say or do more. Callum plots himself down on the ground, also pushing his back up against the tree, and tentatively reaches out to take Mick’s hand. Mick does not resist the gesture - which is a good sign - and Callum sets about warming up his boyfriend’s hands a little. Even if it is in Mick’s nature to keep to himself sometimes, it is never a good sign when the boy is so silent, but Callum also knows there is not much of a way to make Mick talk, other than on his own terms. He could prompt, but he would not push if Mick decides he does not want to talk yet.

“What’s keeping you from the comforts of the inside?”

Mick does not talk, not initially, and Callum is content to just sit there and keep him company if that is what he desired - they would always be there for each other first and foremost, regardless of the status of their relationship. They sit there in the slightly chilly air, and out of concern that Mick would catch a cold more than anything else, even if he knows Mick is quite tolerant of the elements, he was about to start trying to coax Mick back inside, when his boyfriend starts talking.

“I - ” Mick starts, before halting again. Callum sits there unmoving, aside from squeezing Mick’s hand to encourage him, waiting for him to continue.

Aside from a few things - like feelings - Mick is usually an articulate person. Even when it is one of the rare topics that Mick for some reason is not good at talking about, he is still thoughtful. So Callum knows, inside that coconut, there is something going on that Mick is trying to put into words.

“I don’t know. I feel entitled, and all that, if I say it out loud.”

Callum knows that it is the result of the weight of his name, that Mick always tries and keeps his thoughts to himself, endeavouring to just say the right thing, or things that would not give much away. And that old habit extends to his private life, out of habit more than anything else, even when he is surrounded by people who are ‘safe’ when it comes to the media circus. Callum would not be Callum though, if he does not put a sarcastic spin to things.

“I can go and get a paper bag and you could talk to her, if you want.”

That does draw a chuckle out of Mick, who makes no move to let go of Callum’s hand to let him follow through on that proposal. They sit in silence for another minute, before Mick tries again, starting with a sigh.

“It is a little ridiculous, but we are barely five races in and I already feel a little hopeless about the situation. God, Callum, I do sound entitled, don’t I?”

“I’m all ears if you want to let it all out.” Callum says, lightly tapping a finger against Mick’s head.

Mick goes back to things that they both perfectly understand, that a first year in the series these days more or less is just all about learning the ropes, gone are the days when people had unlimited testing time, and could come into the series as a title contender like Lewis. Even with people like Charles who is immensely talented and got to the red team in his second year, had only managed a couple of wins now.

He knows that it is no easy feat to get to the pinnacle of motorsport, to secure one of the twenty seats with money not being one major factor of that happening - Mick said that with a bit of venom - but to be stuck in that car does not do him too much good, even if he knew full well what he was walking into when he agreed to the deal.

To drive a car that is more like a bouncy castle that changes its height lap after lap, with an unstable rear that changes the aero performance and the drivability constantly feels more like that he is fighting the car constantly, rather than driving it to race. To not even have any realistic chance to fight for points - even if he with luck and strategy managed to bag himself two - makes the weekends feel just a little longer than they already are, and it feels more like playing the lottery every race than actually constructively and consistently setting up the car. Mick still believes in his own abilities, as Callum unequivocally affirms, but it was hard to not have seeds of doubts sown in the back of his mind somewhere when it is more likely to finish closer to the bottom than the top ten every race.

Callum has rarely, if ever, heard Mick say it out loud, but he even touches upon the idea of being compared, just because of his name, and his predicament of driving in one of, if not the worst car on the grid. That it is hard to not let it all get to him, even if he knows he is his own person. Callum cannot help but to interject at that point, not forcefully, but asked if Mick would be interested in his two cents. He reaffirms the idea that Mick is his own person, that he sees Mick as Mick alone and not anything else, but also even if they indulge themselves in the whole comparison thing, that even if Mick is just 15% as talented, he would have a championship to his name. But then he also points out that Mick already has both the F3 and F2 championships to his name, and Callum was supremely well positioned to say that he knows Mick deserved every single ounce of those.

That seems to do the trick a little, as he manages to get a punch in the shoulder from Mick, and he hears the laugh in his boyfriend’s voice when he gets told that he is very biased on this matter at this point in time, but that is besides the point.

When Mick starts talking again, the strain is less noticeable, and he sounds more conversational than he has been all night. He calmly talks about the frustration of the race just gone, having sidestepped the matter for a few days. Not that he is stewing about a particularly bad race, but rather the manner through which it was cut short. It is not like he would dwell on this, but the lack of respect from the other side of the garage is quite telling, and Mick cannot be blamed for wishing for a better working environment than what he is getting currently. Even if everyone and their dog agreed that Mick was not at fault for the incident unless he could disappear into thin air at that point in time, an apology was _still_ not forthcoming even if it has been nearly a week since the shunt happened. It is not like they were in line to fight for anything anyway, for that race, or for the season, for that matter. Callum quipped that at least Mick did not get punched in the face.

“Well. Not _yet_.” Mick throws it back. “I won’t bet the house on it”

“Well, I won’t let you bet this place on it.” Callum manages to say with a straight face.

Despite the absurdity of what they have just discussed, or rather, _because of_ the absurdity, they end up laughing out loud, under the cover of the tree, leaning against each other. 

When Callum finally manages to drag Mick back to bed - what he had set out to do originally when he got out - he did not even have to ask if Mick is feeling better. He could feel his boyfriend’s broad shoulders are relaxed, and could see his soft features being pulled by a crooked little smile at the corner of his lips. He sprawls out, pushing his head into Callum’s face, who can only see the mop of Mick’s hair in his line of sight, his hair colour back to the natural blond, hints of the near-platinum highlights all but faded.

“Are you still claiming that your platinum-blond highlights are natural?” He cannot help but quips.

“Shut up.” Mick mumbles into his neck.

In all seriousness, Callum is thankful that he got Mick to talk, finally, as the little signs that Mick is more highly-strung than usual, and his flashes of crankiness of the past few days, finally all made sense to him. And when he wakes up the next morning, he sees a glint in Mick’s eyes again, that the inherent cheerfulness and brightness of his boyfriend has returned to his features and mannerisms. As disgustingly in love as it sounds, that is Callum’s day made already.

* * *

**16 May 2021**

_Sunday 13:39 CET_

The way that Marcus and Robert announced their presence was absolutely unnecessary. Callum is in two minds in making a guess whose idea it was to be sitting in Robert’s car and pressing on the horn like someone fell asleep on the wheel, literally. Given his friends’ propensity to shenanigans, he decides he is none the wiser about this.

But the point is, as far as Callum is aware, their doorbell functions absolutely fine, the door can be knocked, and Mick literally told Marcus where he left the spare key for them to let themselves in, in case neither of them made it back to the place yet.

Point is, there are way better options available to his friends than deciding to just honk for twenty seconds and waking up the whole country of Italy. But what does he know, really?

Regardless, as he pokes his head out of the bathroom door, he sees his boyfriend, who for some reason is wearing a cap, shuffling in the direction of the front door. Then he hears the tell-tale sound of the front door swinging open, before he hears the voices of his friends booming down the corridor. He towels off his hair once again, before tugging on a random white t-shirt he has grabbed from the dresser. It feels just a little too wide, when he smooths down the shirt, which points to it being Mick’s shirt, but it does not really matter to Callum, as he just tosses the towel over the back of his gaming chair and heads to the threshold of the living room, poking his head around the corner to see what his friends are up to.

“Ah, there’s Callum my man!” Robert greets him enthusiastically as he sees Callum appearing around the corner.

“Not sure if he’s your man.” Marcus mutters almost immediately after, earning himself a shove from Robert.

Regardless, Callum walks over to join them in the living room, pressing himself up against Mick as their friends settle down in the living room as well, the TV channel playing golf still on from the morning, before Callum had gone out for a bike ride around the back roads of the town. Mick probably had not bothered to change channels when he came back in from the Haas factory, he probably was busy zoning out anyway, or more likely, reading something that is entirely too boring.

He quickly removes the cap, as Mick wraps an arm around his middle, fingers finding their way underneath the shirt and splaying against Callum’s abs, resting his cheek against Callum’s shoulder. He blows a kiss in Mick’s direction, ignoring the fact that their friends are right next to them.

Robert more or less ignores the interaction, and continues talking about whatever shenanigans he has been up to with Oscar, something about Oscar’s ongoing struggles against the DRS flap or other, as well as talking with excitement about finally getting to get back to race again, and going to Monaco no less. Even if there is a pandemic going on and things are bound to get more restricted than usual, the glamour of the city, the history and challenge of the track still has a draw to them, and nothing really beats getting back in a car. Something that Callum resonates to at a very high level, considering that among the four of them in the room, he is the only one that is not an active driver this year.

Not a lot of people know that they are living here together, such is the discretion of both of them. Robert and Marcus are one of the few people who knows, as do Juan, who they have promised to host later in the year when he swings around Italy. Not even Ferrari knows about this, given how both of them neglected to mention where exactly either of them are living when they separately told Ferrari that each of them have a place in Maranello.

Their friends are here because, well simply because Robert happens to be in Maranello for some work, and is staying at Marcus’ place until they hop across the Riviera to the Principality. Oh, and, because Marcus’ place is out of power for some reason. The two wasted little time in deciding their place is a good refuge, and they easily agreed. It is getting a little boring staying in, with neither their dogs around - not that it is realistic to relocate their dogs given they are constantly on the road, nor is it that they are getting bored of each other - but it is always nice to have some company, on top of that being company that are also conscious of avoiding exposure in the pandemic.

Callum quickly shuts it down, when Marcus tries to volunteer to “make” them lunch, as Robert has now moved to commandeer Callum’s sim in the office, dragging Mick with him, challenging him to a duel on iRacing on the oval or something. He does follow Callum into the kitchen though, still, seemingly content to leave it to Mick to deal with the bundles of unending energy and enthusiasm that is Robert. Callum agrees with this strategy, unironically, as Mick for some reason is quite well suited to deal with Robert’s constantly excited state, seeing as they have spent years being teammates with each other. He has just finished this thought when he hears a laugh from his boyfriend, as well as a string of Italian curses from the Russian. He cannot help but let out a chuckle as well.

Marcus rummages in his rucksack somewhere next to Callum, as he goes to pour out some grains for the meal he is going to make. A few seconds later, a bottle of expensive-looking wine finds itself onto the far corner of the counter, just in the periphery of his vision. He keeps measuring the grains on the weight, before it registers what he has just seen.

“You shouldn’t have.” He does not exactly _exclaim_ , but the way he swivels around and raises his eyebrows are indicators of him doing the equivalent of exclaiming - such is the Callumism of Callum.

“I mean, if housewarming is not happening for you, you’ve got to have this.” Marcus says with a shrug, rounding the counter to throw his bag back on the floor by the sofa. “It’s as much Robert’s idea as it is mine.”

Callum cannot say he could argue with that, though he still insists they should not have done it. Instead he goes back to focusing on making food, while Marcus hangs around the kitchen, watching the food getting made with keen interest. Callum moves to retrieve some ingredients Mick has got on his way back from the factory, and cuts and throws some vegetables onto the pan before moving on to the chicken breasts he is going to make.

As he is seasoning with some herbs, Marcus speaks up again, now perched on a stool, sitting on the other side of the kitchen island, propping his head up on his hand.

“How’s things with him?” Marcus asks, nodding in the direction of the office where the sim rigs are located.

He does his trademark little shrug. “Good.” He says, as he heats up another pan, getting it ready for the food. “Why?” He asks, as an afterthought.

“Just thought you look happier than the start of the year.” Marcus muses, as he takes a sip out of a bottle of apple juice - forever co-opting Callum’s things, this bastard. “Mick looks quite happy too. You’d think he’d be a little tense.”

“He has his moments.” It is not his story to tell, so he just settles on a vague answer, as the pan sizzles, and he moves the food around with practiced ease. “But I think we do each other some good. And this place is definitely more convenient than flying around constantly. Missed Poppy though.”

“You’re just jealous that I get sent pictures of Angie everyday.” Mick suddenly joins their conversation, as Callum catches him entering the kitchen when he swivels around. A pair of arms settle around him, as he turns back to focus on the food. “Maybe.” He replies.

“Oh, Rob wants to race you,” Mick turns to address Marcus, who is still perched on the stool, now scrolling on his phone, “I’d say go in there before he comes out to drag you inside himself.”

“Aight,” Marcus sighs dramatically, “can I not just exist in peace?”

* * *

**19 May 2021**

_Wednesday 17:04 CET_

Granted, Robert was not incorrect when he talked about the glamour of Monaco, but if you look at it differently, you could also say that it is one whole circus. Neither Callum not Mick are particularly weak in the media department, but they would be lying if they say that it is not a challenge, navigating every media or PR commitment. Even in the middle of the pandemic, there is still much semblance of a circus unfolding here, just with more distances placed between the drivers and all else, with barriers in place, though not with the inelegance of plastic or glass barriers being placed around the paddock. Such is Monaco.

Callum would not say he is glad he is not driving, because that is just patently untrue, but he is definitely having it easy, only required to be here and sitting in the garage for Ferrari, though even he has a deluge of media and event commitments. As he is sat at a table on the edge of the Ferrari hospitality, he sees George and Lando at the paddock club, talking to the celebrities and rich people who paid good money to get in this reduced capacity area. There are also a more bloated media contingent present, despite restrictions in place, and he sees in the other direction that Charles, the local favourite, is talking to a group of media outlets that are hardly in compliance with social distancing rules.

Then he also sees Mick, fresh from returning from the track walk in the midst of all traffic that is still going on in Monte Carlo, getting stopped quite a few times by people who see him, before getting diverted to one of the gazebos where Sky Italia is set up, and sits down for an interview. Mick has texted him in the last hour, pointing out how he had already gone through like three media interviews, signed several dozens of autographs, taken a boatload of selfies, and talked to a bunch of celebrities, mentioning even some football coach is there. And that above all that, it is still just Wednesday, they have not even been in the car once yet this weekend.

He nods and waves a little, when at this moment, Will and Lawrence walk up to the Ferrari hospitality, doing their weekend preview show, and notices him sitting right out front. He comments, when asked, that he is looking forward to seeing everyone pushing the limits around the unforgiving track, and dodges the hint of the question of if he has any plans for the next year, before the pair continue on their way, walking down the paddock to finish off their segment.

* * *

_Wednesday 20:53 CET_

One of the peculiarities of Monaco, if you could call it that, is that the race weekend starts on Thursday, with Friday being reserved for all the events surrounding the weekend, so Formula 1 cars are not running on that day. The fact that Mick has to be in the car the next day, added with the fact that there are more people milling around in the hotels than any other race on the calendar, and Mick saying he would not be good company given how knackered he is already, means that Callum is not going down a floor to get to Mick for the night. He does not hold it against him, really, considering the risks here, plus Mick’s need to focus for the weekend at a track that is all about qualifying and not much about overtaking - meaning it being one of the biggest chance for him to bag more points, as well as expectations on him to perform at the track, Callum figures he should not be a distraction right then. Plus, he has had a generous amount of Mick lately, so both of them could withstand just a little distance and restraint for now.

* * *

**20 May 2021**

_Thursday 13:47 CET_

Callum has got to say, with no exaggeration, that with track sessions underway, it is indeed one of the calmest days so far since he landed in Monaco on Monday night, with the general circus surrounding the race weekend in general now temporarily put on hold, and the focus being on the track. Even if it is just a practice session, it could still be consequential on the pecking order come Saturday, so there is still plenty of intrigue going around the paddock, especially with the unpredictable performance of the tyres this season, that made one-stop versus two-stop a genuine discussion rather than a moot point the media use to try and drive up the non-existent drama. He listens in to the coded tactical discussions through his headphones, as he sits in the garage, staring at the data screens and the live feed, waving at the cameras when he notices he is being shown on the live feed at that moment.

With the Formula Two qualifying sessions under way, he has moved his way out to the other side of the pitlane, where it overlooks the swimming pool chicane. While the F2 teams are hard at work to navigate the two groups of qualifying, some of the F1 guys are also at the same perch, and Callum finds himself joined by George and Alex, as they survey the proceedings on track. They chat about everything, on what they have been up to recently, though Callum does not give away much beyond saying something about the same old and biking in the hills, and otherwise stuck inside mostly. Not many people, if at all, knows about him and Mick, so he is not about to start giving that away right now. He listens to Alex talk about what Lily had been up to, being enthusiastic as ever despite being dropped from a race seat. At some point, he feels his shoulder being tapped, and is greeted by a quick hug by Mick, and his boyfriend first bumps the other two as well, sharing a quick word before moving somewhere further down the pit lane to talk to Sebastian and Pierre. Neither he nor Mick lingered longer than socially acceptable to raise any suspicions from their friends and rivals, and especially given the abundance of cameras all around them at any angle.

They revert to talking about things, something about George’s propensity to take off his shirt or other, and Alex gives him rubbish again for George constantly being a thirst trap and all that. Callum takes out his phone to look at the timings for the session, as well as shooting a quick text back at Mick who asked him about lunch. All that is cut short, though, when they see a pink car driving a suboptimal line into the chicane, blocking one of the faster ART cars trying to clear it, and ending up tangling and blocking the track sideways.

“That has to be that dangerous guy, no?” They hear someone say, passing by behind them, someone in a black and white team kit walking down the pitlane back into the garages. Callum catches a glimpse of the number of the pink car, and he has to say he knows who is being referred to. Not that he would comment, considering that next thing he knows he could be sued for character assasination or some other bullshit.

Instead, he comments on the obvious thing, with the red flag being shown and not enough time on the clock to do much more meaningful running for the session. “Marcus is going to be gutted,” he says, pointing out his best friends standing in the lower top-ten position after having impressed in the practice session in the morning.

* * *

**21 May 2021**

_Friday 17:03 CET_

It feels odd to Mick, in all honesty, to have a gap in the race weekend after they have started driving, having Friday as a solely events day with no track action in F1. Such is the importance Monaco is seen as for the sponsors of teams and various events organisers, that the Grand Prix is one of the most high value events on their itinerary. Regardless, he has spent his day moving through events, gracing the paddock club with his presence, sitting down to talk to some celebrities and media outlets, as well as to the team’s sponsors - not that there are many, for obvious reasons. He also finds himself stopping by his team’s hospitality, watching the first F2 race unfold on the television. Even with a smaller car, the track is no less challenging in terms of finding overtake opportunities for the feeder series, though he sees Marcus making a charge through the field, pulling off a few daring moves around the tight and twisty circuit, and gaining valuable ground in this short and curtailed season.

One of the important events around the race weekend here in Monaco though, is the fashion show thing they do here, that drivers are for some reason obliged to attend and walk at. Mick is not going to question why all this still happens in the middle of the pandemic, lest he wants to go into a rabbit hole. From what he hears, this year the catwalk is to be replaced by a photoshoot instead, which would explain the lack of crowds at the place, and also making Mick breathe out a sigh of relief that he is not about to walk into a super high risk situation that he has every intention of pulling out of last minute. He gets ushered in when he arrives at the venue, as he changes into one of the suits picked out by the designer of the show, and his hair gets fixed by the stylists into a fluffier look than he usually has.

He stands back in a corner, away from the slightly hectic scene in front of him, as he observes his surroundings. He might have omitted the part where some F2 drivers are also present, not long after getting out of the car for the day, as he observes from the distance to see how Marcus has two or three stylists working on him concurrently, and he seems to be relishing all the attention he is getting, that being apparent even behind the mask he is wearing.

Or that Callum is also here.

“You’re looking like a Disney prince right now.” He whispers into his ear, startling Mick a little, though he also sees that his boyfriend is openly checking him out as they are away from the attention of other people at that moment.

For some reason, Callum’s curly and stylistically messy hair is left untouched, as they remain the same way where they are threatening to fall over into his eyes at any moment. He ignores his boyfriend’s comment, and instead points out his observation, lamenting how unfair that is.

“To be fair, you look even hotter than usual.”

Callum seems to be not letting him live in peace at this moment, though it is then that he notices his boyfriend is very much staring at how his arms flex in the patterned shirt he is wearing, the blazer jacket hanging on the hanger next to him. If his boyfriend is trying to hide that he is in the mood, he has to be doing a spectacularly bad job. Mick unashamedly flexes deliberately, and Callum has to force himself to tear his eyes away, instead glaring at Mick’s face, complaining that he should be helping him, not piling on his misery.

“Oh? I thought you’d enjoy the view?” Mick says playfully with a little smirk, very much amused by how much his boyfriend is struggling at the moment, earning himself another glare. “I see you’re getting cocky, Schumacher.” He mutters, before planting his ass down on a chair nearby with a groan.

He only surveys his boyfriend now, seeing how Callum is wearing a more conventional dark suit, though the shirt is worn in the customary way Callum wears anything with buttons - with too many buttons undone - though it somehow just works.

Before he could dwell more on it though, he gets shepherded away, being tutted at leaving his blazer unworn, and gets thrown into the mix of the photoshoot thing, as well as talking to the select few people in attendance, including the actual Prince of the Principality. He also hangs out with his fellow drivers, with Callum constantly in the periphery somewhere as they joke about things, as well as pulling out their phones to take photos of each other and their surroundings.

Even if he has to admit that it was a little fun, going to that event, it does not make him any less tired by the end of it, though there are a few things on his mind before he leaves, as he hangs back, talking to the organisers about a thing or two.

* * *

_Friday 21:20 CET_

Callum had a _hard_ time at the event, if you catch his drift, and there is no other way to put it other than seeing Mick in that shirt and how he flexes in it made him feel things. A lot of unholy things at that. He is still torn between feeling thankful that it is over, bringing to an end to his suffering, or being sad that it has already ended, and he has not gotten more opportunities to feast on the sight of Mick in that outfit.

He tries to push that all to the back of his mind though, getting back from the event, and went through the few commitments he still had outstanding for the day, and joined his friends in F2 for dinner, hanging out with some people that he has not seen in so long, like the likes of Guanyu.

When he gets back to the hotel, he gets a text from Mick, telling him to stop by his room. He questions whether it is the most responsible thing to do, for various reasons, chiefly because of the time in day it is at that moment when Mick has a qualifying session to do in the afternoon of the following day. He obliges nonetheless, not seeing a reason to the contrary.

Or that he has had all the reasons to the contrary, when he steps into the room with the spare key card they exchange like every other time they are at a race weekend together.

Because Mick is dressed in that godforsaken shirt, at nine in the evening.

Evidently his boyfriend knows perfectly well what he is doing, given the twinkle in his eye, an indicator whenever that he is up to some cheeky shenanigan.

“You’re giving me a lot of reasons to jump you right now and I cannot be held responsible for my actions.” Callum mutters, as he steps into Mick’s personal space, holding both sides of his waist. Mick’s smile only grows a little wider, raising his eyebrows like he is challenging Callum to do something.

Rationality being thrown to the wind, he reaches up to grab Mick’s biceps, as Mick uses that as leverage to hold onto Callum, and Callum captures Mick’s lips hungrily, kissing him with fervour, just like he had wanted to do when he first saw this sight at the event. Callum wastes no time, as he starts walking Mick back to the bed, pushing his boyfriend over and climbing over him, their lips only barely detaching between all that, before they finally part, Callum resting his forehead against Mick’s as they catch their breath.

“I’m going to blow you.” Callum announces, and does not let Mick react, before he already starts making quick work of the buttons on the shirt, only pushing them open enough for him to press kisses down Mick’s torso, before dragging a tongue down Mick’s abs. He has not even gotten to undoing the button on Mick’s pants, and his boyfriend is already making some inhuman sounds. He looks up from where he is hovering over Mick’s waistband, and locks eyes with his boyfriend, who is watching him intensely. So he presses a kiss on Mick’s hard-on through all the layers, before undoing the button and unzipping the dress pants, pulling down Mick’s boxers in one go.

He looks up again, drinking in the sight of Mick looking disheveled, a little red, and that shirt still barely on, before without warning, he take Mick in his mouth all the way to the bottom, all the while locking eyes with his boyfriend, who struggles not to moan out loud, and ended up letting out some strained sounds that could not be properly described. He struggles a little with his gag reflex initially, though he then settles into a punishing pace, swirling his tongue relentlessly around Mick, and hollowing out his cheek time and again, doing everything he knows in his repertoire to drive Mick crazy. Mick, to his credit, manages to not be too loud, though he is very obviously reduced into a panting mess that is mesmerised by looking at Callum, unable to tear his eyes away, as Callum locks eyes with him everytime he looks up.

He does not slow down, even when Mick manages to gasp out that he is about to come, instead stimulates his head with his tongue even more relentlessly, as hot streams shoot down his throat, while Mick buries his face in the pillow, muffling the scream that he could not hold in. Callum does not let up, deliberately swirls his tongue around Mick a few times more, leaving his boyfriend wriggling around with overstimulation, before he finally pulls off, plopping himself down alongside Mick, who seems thoroughly out of it, still heaving and staring at the ceiling blankly. The only indication that Mick is still on this plane of existence being his flailing arm landing at the center of Callum’s chest, which he catches with a hand with ease before lacing their fingers together.

“Holy shit.” Mick gasps, eventually.

Callum has to chuckle at that, “what did you expect otherwise? I even warned that I’m going to jump you.” He says, ignoring that he is still painfully hard in his own sweatpants.

“I mean…” Mick starts, still struggling for breath a little, “exactly what I expected.”

Eventually, Callum sits up, with Mick still sprawled out on the bed and playing with Callum’s fingers. His own erection still shows no signs of subsiding, but the responsible part of his brain says that Mick should probably sleep sometime soon if he does not want to show up to qualifying looking like a panda.

Mick though, protests his move, simply by pointing at the bulge Callum is sporting. Though he manages to coax Mick out of bed and into the shower when he promises that they can deal with that while they shower, which just sets Mick into motion, moving more quickly than the past fifteen minutes, and stumbling a little as he drags Callum into the bathroom with evidently still jelly legs.

* * *

**22 May 2021**

_Saturday 16:23 CET_

Mick manages to sneak into Q2 again, managing to navigate the circuit wrestling the car by the scruff of its neck, ending up qualifying at P13 after some penalties were applied to other cars that were forced to take new components early.

“That evidently gave me a lot of luck.” Mick says as Callum walks up to congratulate him in the pit lane, without directly referencing their activities the night prior, with prying eyes and ears everywhere, though that does not stop the tip of Callum’s ears going a little pink, as he laughs and pats Mick in the back, saying that Mick owes him one if that is the case.

Mick just shares a knowing look with him, perfectly aware what Callum could be hinting at.

* * *

**23 May 2021**

_Sunday 11:37 CET_

Just a few hours to go when the lights go out, Callum finds himself lazing a little in his hotel bed, having the freedom to do so given he has no more obligations for the weekend other than getting to his designated seat in the garage before the race begins. In a lot of ways, it has been an exhausting weekend even without being in the car. He is still sitting on the bed, leaning against the head of the bed when he gets a text from Marcus asking if he is still at the hotel.

There is a knock on his door a few minutes later, after he texts back an affirmative, and the Kiwi in return tells him that he and Jüri are swinging by. He gets off the bed finally, to swing open the door, as the two invite themselves into the room, commandeering the chairs as they settle down. For once not having an early race to catch on a Sunday, both F2 drivers have nothing on their schedule either, presumably Jüri would be present in the Red Bull garage, while Marcus would join Callum as well. Either way, they settle down, as they talk about the latest rumour and story that comes up from the grapevine in the paddock, this time is just about someone’s race engineer getting replaced, so it is nothing tasty at all, and they quickly move to other things, something about Juan thinking about flying out to Estonia to visit Jüri over the summer break. He ignores the comment from Callum that Jüri had just spent the new year’s in Florida with Juan, and proceeds to move on to something else about the longstanding tennis matchups between him and Christian, and about how Christian accidentally threw his racket one time when he hit the ball too hard. It is always fun talking to the two of them, being two guys who are the embodiment of chaos and shenanigans, and they only part when the clock on their phones indicate that they should start get moving if they want to have some food in their stomach before they go and sit in the garage and watch cars go round on the screen.

He checks his phone only then, having abandoned it on the bedside table to charge, and sees that Mick has sent him a picture. He taps it open and sees that it is a picture of a certain shirt Mick has worn recently… next to the set of clothes that looks suspiciously like the outfit Callum had worn a few days ago. Mick has only captioned it with a simple “I might have done something btw”, which does nothing to explain how these clothes are still in Mick’s possession. Nor the response from Mick (“I have my charms😉”) give him any further insight, when Callum texts back to quiz him about why he has those with him. No more response is forthcoming, and Callum assumes that Mick has to be getting ready for the race by then, when he checks the time again, shoving the remainder of the sandwich he is eating into his mouth and gets moving in the direction of the pits, walking a little faster than he would otherwise, but doing so to ensure he has any chance of getting there to have some time to spare and not look like a fool that comes in late.

* * *

_Sunday 17:31 CET_

Race day in Monaco is never exactly a classic. Ask any avid watcher of the series and you would know that this race is mostly decided on the Saturday, when the grid slots are decided. That is, unless, mishaps happen and the race gets turned on its head. To be fair, that is not exactly a rare occurrence either, and he could count a few occasions where teams or drivers snatched defeat from the jaws of victory just off the top of his head.

Regardless, the race looked set to be a fairly standard affair, with the cars all making it through the first lap, navigating around the congestion that comes with such a tight and twisty street track that came from an era bygone. It is not to say it is entirely without action though, as one of the silver cars had trouble getting off the line, causing a concertina effect on the cars behind, and Callum catches from the edge of the picture on the live feed that a grey car, among a few others managed to gain some ground as a result of being at the right place at the right time and slips through the slowed down train of cars.

The graphic on the screen later on, when the first lap is done, shows that Mick had gained two places, though at the expense of some faster cars like the Alpine, that were caught up in the chain reaction at the start.

On his team’s front, both cars started and are still in the top six, with not much room to gain ground when there is limited real estate on the track for them to find room and set up a pass, as well as the fact that their rivals are keeping them just at arm’s length, tantalisingly close but not close enough to mount a serious challenge to overhaul their position. Callum keeps an eye peeled for his boyfriend though, finding himself very often looking for the grey dot on the tracker that reads 47, as well as looking at the live feed for the latest situation in general. With Mick in eleventh, he knows that there is a real tangible opportunity that he could bag a point or two in the difficult circumstances, though that also has the preconditions of Mick managing to keep the cars behind him where they are, there being no strategic mistakes, and that an opportunity presents itself for Mick to move further up the field.

It is deep into the race, with one of the papaya cars retiring from the race due to a puncture, that sends Mick into the top ten. He has mostly held his own against the constant pressure from behind, and managed to make an undercut work, having had a strong out lap when he came out of the pits - his only stop, much like others, as the strategists ultimately decide track position is much more important - and managed to gain important tenths of a second that he stays just ahead of the Alpha Tauri that had been hounding him down for much of the second stage of the race.

Mick delivers several robust defending moves, as he shuts the door coming into the Nouvelle chicane, and again into Rascasse. Callum is internally on the edge of the seat as he watches the duel unfold, though manages to keep a calm facade on the outside as he stares at the screen intensely to watch the proceedings like a hawk. Yuki manages to pull alongside going into Mirabeau, and Mick holds his nerve, driving around the outside that turns into the inside at the hairpin, and keeps hold of his position at the end of the points-paying position again. Yuki eventually drops off, coming under the pressure of Giovanazzi behind, freeing up Mick to focus on wrestling the car around the streets of Monaco. Callum breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the immediate threat to Mick’s position fading into the background, and Mick finishes there in the end, managing to bring the car home and once again achieved the improbable feat of delivering points with the machinery he has. He would have achieved ninth, even, if he had crossed the line two tenths earlier, as the Alpine that finished up the road from Mick got handed a five seconds’ penalty for cutting the track.

Mick is in a chirper mood none the less, when Callum catches him outside the Haas hospitality in the paddock, as they stand to the side to talk about the race. Yuki shows up at one point, offering a fist for Mick to bump as he passes by on his way out of the paddock, throwing a thumbs up in their direction. They duck away from the media milling about in the paddock, making their way back to the hotel and bumping into Robert and Oscar, and they sat down with the Prema teammates to have dinner together, talking about life outside racing, and pets become a prevalent topic over dinner as they talk about their own companions, as well as the thought of getting more of them, before concluding that with their life on the road, it does not seem the smartest thing to do.

* * *

_Sunday 19:57 CET_

They run into Marcus, who is with Christian, when they are walking to the elevators. He congratulates Mick, saying that he has done a good job, as they talk briefly about the race, before Mick exits the elevator on the floor of his own room. Marcus though, decides to follow Callum to his room, seemingly deciding that it is good time to annoy Callum some more, as is tradition.

Marcus just makes himself at home in Callum’s room, connecting his phone to the bluetooth speaker before starting to do renditions of songs spontaneously, while Callum starts the uphill task of packing his things all back together to be ready to fly back out to Italy.

He is in the middle of contemplating crawling under the bed to look for his missing phone charger, when Marcus finally takes a break from butchering Despacito, and instead interesting himself on commentary of Callum’s predicament, turning himself into David Attenborough with a kiwi accent as he narrates Callum’s search for his charger, eventually finding it from under his pillow, for some reason unbeknownst to him.

It is as he is raising his charger in triumph, when Mick walks into his room, greeted with Callum waving the charger around like it is a trophy. Marcus looks between the two of them, before deciding that it is time for him to take his leave and exits the room, leaving them alone and telling them he would see them for the flight out tomorrow.

Mick is holding his laptop under his arms, and plops himself down at the spot on the bed where Marcus just vacated, and pats the space next to him to ask Callum to join him, as he opens up his laptop, seemingly having something to show Callum.

He waits patiently, as Mick clicks through things on the computer, being not any less of a grandpa than Callum when it comes to technology, though it appears he eventually manages to navigate to whatever he is looking for, and he turns the laptop over to the direction of Callum, showing him a photo.

Not just any photo, but one of those from the event they were at earlier in the week, in it with Callum staring intensely into the camera, the green of his eyes clear and apparent. It has to be one of the better photos of himself Callum has seen, that is not of him in a racesuit or team gear. He looks at Mick quizzically, and Mick rubs the back of his neck a little, looking sheepish.

“I asked around a little and got given a drive with a copy of everyone’s photos from that day and found this one.”

“Not that I’m complaining… but do I want to know why you’ve gone and got this?”

“Probably the same reason why I’ve gone and bought our outfits off the designer.”

“Wait, you’ve actually bought yours so I could fuck you in it?” Callum blurts.

Mick’s face has turned red like a tomato by then, as he chuckles embarrassedly, “I didn’t mean to let you know that… it’s just I know you liked that one and I also liked how you look… so that happened.”

Callum pokes Mick in the cheek with a finger. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.” He says with no heat behind it, but just loads of amusement.

“You’re not mad?”

Callum has to press a kiss on Mick’s cheek to emphasise his point, “Why would I even be mad? I love the idea of it, just didn’t think you’ve actually gone and done all of that.”

“What if I print that picture and frame it so we can hang it somewhere at our place?”

Callum’s heart swells at Mick’s mentioning of that house as “their place”, but also that idea is a no, he does not think his embarrassment tolerance is that high, he would be self conscious if he looks at pictures of himself too much.

“You’re pushing it. You’re lucky that I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find my side Tumblr for this ao3 a/c: [schulott](https://schulott.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I'd really appreciate it if you can leave a comment :)
> 
> No promises on when I will return but stay tuned for more? I hope you'd want it too?


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